


I'll See You Yesterday

by Razia



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:58:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2885642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razia/pseuds/Razia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luhan has the ability to travel through time, which would be totally cool... if he could control it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll See You Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> For [ruined_reverie](http://ruined-reverie.livejournal.com/) at Livejournal. Her prompt was "a fic that ends the same way it starts".
> 
> I hope this makes sense (I think it made more sense in my head D8 ) Please, enjoy :3

The ground comes up to his face in high speed and all Luhan can do is widen his eyes and wait for the pain. A pain that he knows never comes, but he can't help the flinch. When he opens his eyes again, is to a clear blue sky and warm sunshine on his face.

He tries to sit up, but there's a headache slamming away in his brain, so he lies again on the soft grass and closes his eyes. The sun is starting to be too warm, but he thinks he might as well endure it. Minutes pass by before he’s sure he can get up, but before he tries, a soft, childish voice interrupts him.

“What are you doing?”

Luhan opens his eyes and squints against the sun, turning his head to the left, where the tiny voice came from. There's a small boy crouching beside him, face pulled down into a frown, and Luhan wants to pinch his cheeks.

“I'm just enjoying the view.”

It's a rehearsed line, something he's been saying for the past few years, since his annoying ability to jump through time appeared. It's quite normal for him to end up sprawled on different places, because he can never control where he's going to land, or how. People usually look at him strangely whenever they find him laying around.

The boy—who seems to be not a day older than five or six—stares at him some more, and Luhan feels self-conscious, which is also very common whenever his power kicks in.

“Doesn’t look like you’re enjoying it much.” The boys says. Luhan smiles at the bluntness—this is why he likes children so much, they’re never afraid of telling the truth. Most people just leave him alone, but children are always curious and ask the cutest questions.

“You just surprised me a little.”

“Oh. Sorry.” The boy says, face apologetic.

“That’s okay.” Luhan answers, sitting up. He’s on a park, somewhere in the middle of Seoul. He always seems to end up in parks, which is a relief. He doesn’t want to think how much trouble he would get into if he ended up inside someone’s house.

The boy is still there, kneeling, looking at him like he’s some kind of alien, so Luhan smiles what he hopes is a good, non-creepy smile.

“What’s your name? Mine is Luhan.”

“That’s a weird name. Oh, sorry. Hi, my name is Sehun, nice to meet you.” Sehun answers, the second part totally mechanical, making Luhan chuckle. No doubt Sehun’s mother instilled some good manners into him, even though she doesn’t seem to have won the battle against his bluntness.

“It’s a Chinese name, that’s why it’s weird.”

Sehun opens his mouth to probably say something honest again, but Luhan never gets to hear it.

He pops back to his bed, where he had woken up that morning, before being thrown into time and space. He sighs; he can’t help feeling dejected every time he comes back, though he should be used to this by now. The hard cut his power—more like curse—makes on his dialogues with random people is worth a headache.

It’s a shame, really. He had really liked Sehun.

 

When Luhan meets Sehun again, the boy is around eleven years old. Luhan ends up sprawled at a park on a cloudy day. No headaches this time, so he sits up and actually enjoys the view this time. The flowers are in full bloom; he ogles them for some time before his eyes wander to the far right side, where a boy sits on a bench. It takes him some seconds to recognize the boy, because Sehun has grown a lot in height, but his face is exactly the same; he feels giddy—it’s the first time he has ever traveled to the same person again. Afraid Sehun won’t remember him, he gets up and approaches with caution, less Sehun thinks he’s some pervert sneaking up on a child.

When he gets closer he can see Sehun’s posture looks dejected. His head is bent low and his hands are fists on the bench. He only notices Luhan when he sits down, and quickly wipes his face with his hands.

“Were you crying?” Luhan asks, voice soft and pointedly not looking at Sehun.

“No.” Sehun answers, his throat clogged up.

Luhan wonders if he should pressure. While he decides, he takes the time to look the boy up and down, and the bruises on his arms and legs don’t escape his eyes. Sehun’s uniform is rumpled and dirty, his dark blue short ripped here and there.

Luhan can see the telltale signs of bullying, having being a victim himself; anger rises inside him. He takes a deep breath before trying again.

“You know, I could teach you how to punch them back.” He says, almost wincing when he remembers his mother giving him the sermon of his life when he came home and found out the school had called, telling his mother he had punched a boy in the face and broken his nose.

It had been one of the best days of Luhan’s life.

Sehun stays quiet, but Luhan knows he’s got his attention now. It takes a while, but Sehun eventually speaks.

“How?” Is all he asks, voice still closed up.

So Luhan spends the next two hours teaching Sehun everything he knows about throwing a punch, which he learned from his cousin a long time ago. Sehun takes to it with sparkling eyes; he’s laughing by the end of it.

Luhan wants to pinch his cheeks.

 

The third time Luhan meets Sehun is the first time he realizes something very important: since he met Sehun, Luhan hasn’t been to another place or another someone.

It kinda scares him a little.

It also excites him a little.

 

Luhan is in his own time when he meets Sehun _for real_. He’s walking to his class when someone bumps into him. The boy is practically the same height as him, and he looks into Luhan’s eyes to probably apologize, but the words die in his mouth when he looks up.

Luhan is promptly taken aback by Sehun’s looks. He knows Sehun is handsome, always was, but he surely wasn’t prepared for this. And he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of feelings that assaults him right at this moment. But Luhan doesn’t get much time to appreciate this new way of looking at Sehun, because the boy is looking at him like he’s a ghost, and maybe Luhan should try to quell his panic.

“Hi.” Yeah, great way to start.

“You…” Sehun splutters, unable to finish the sentence. Well, at least he remembers; Luhan is secretly glad for that. And then the shock comes.

No one has ever remembered Luhan before. No one. Well, if he visits someone more than once, they do remember, but in his own time? Never. The first time he reencountered someone in his original time was very embarrassing, because Luhan went to talk to the girl and she gave him the nasty eye, probably thinking he was a pervert of some sort, pretending to know her. The second time was even worse; he almost got punched because the guy thought Luhan was hitting on him (which wasn’t true because the guy wasn’t his type.)

But here it is, the first time someone actually remembers him. Luhan can feels his eyes widen in shock too.

“How…?” Sehun is still flabbergasted; Luhan can’t really speak right now too, but he wonders what kind of picture they paint, standing there in the middle of the sidewalk; mouths open like fishes out of water.

Sehun looks up and down, assessing in a way that makes Luhan feel a little naked.

“You haven’t changed.” Is the first coherent sentence out of Sehun’s mouth. Luhan can’t help but chuckle. Sehun is still looking at him like maybe he’s an alien, though, so he figures it’s time to calm him down and assure him Luhan is not actually from outer space (as far as he knows, anyway).

“Yeah, I haven’t. It’s just something that happens... I’m not sure you would believe me if I told you.” He has never had to explain himself before.

Sehun takes a moment to answer, eyes glued to Luhan’s face.

“Try me.”

So Luhan tries.

 

“So, you can only stay for a few moments? Is that why you always disappeared right in front of me?” Sehun asks, face serious as he regards Luhan.

It’s almost magical that Sehun is believing him at all.

“Yeah. I don’t mean to just _poof_ out of people’s presence, but I can’t control it. I can’t control anything about it.”

“And what about other people? Do they remember you too?”

Luhan smiles, eyes sparkling as he answers. “If I travel to them again, they do, which causes really awkward situations. But if I meet them in my own normal time, nope, they don’t.”

“So I’m the only one?”

“...you’re the only one.”

Luhan doesn’t miss the little twitch of Sehun’s mouth that he tries to hide.

 

Everytime he travels after meeting Sehun for real marks another encounter, and Sehun always remembers those new times when Luhan comes back.

It’s fun for a while, but then it isn’t anymore.

The first time Luhan travels to the future doesn’t feel like the future at first. He’s close to the Han River, that much he knows, but something doesn’t feel right. He looks around for Sehun, but the only person he sees is an old man sitting on a bench nearby. Luhan feels a shiver run down his spine; it has almost been a year since he started traveling only to Sehun, and suddenly this?

Why?

He approaches the bench and sits down, frowning. He turns to ask the man the date, but is taken aback by the eyes already watching him.

And that’s when he realizes the old man is a very much aged Sehun. Luhan gapes at him; Sehun’s smile is very sad as he regards Luhan with tired eyes.

“Hey, long time no see.”

“What... what do you mean?” But it’s obvious what he means. Sehun hasn’t seen Luhan in a long while, which is absurd because they’re sort of best friends and why would they not see each other, even old and grey?

That requires an answer Luhan isn’t ready to give himself.

They stay in silence for a while; he doesn’t know what to say. Should he comfort Sehun? Should he talk about a random subject? Should he go?

Sehun resolves the issue by taking his hand. Luhan marvels at how fragile Sehun’s skin looks now, thin and wrinkled.

“You’re going back soon, right?”

Yes, he never stays more than a few minutes. He nods, but Sehun isn’t looking at him. He’s watching the river, moonlight illuminating the water surface and reflecting back at them.

Luhan feels the exact moment he vanishes from the future because Sehun’s hand isn’t in his anymore.

When he sees Sehun for real, later that day, he hugs him tightly and ignores Sehun’s frown.

 

It happens again, some months later. When he comes back to his time, he curls into a ball and cries his eyes out.

Sehun’s grave looked lonely on the graveyard.

 

There was one time, just one, that Luhan got a glimpse of Sehun after college, working. He’s sprawled on a patch of grass at a campus somewhere in the middle of Seoul, blinking up at the sun and waiting for his headache to subside. There are kids—probably his age—about, sitting on the grass and soaking up the sun, studying for finals or running late for some class or another. Then he looks to the right and sees Sehun walking out of a building, some papers on one hand and a suitcase on the other.

Luhan swallows. Sehun is incredibly handsome, and Luhan gathers he must be around thirty now (he became strangely good at guessing people’s ages after the whole time-traveling began). There’s a kid running in his direction; he approaches Sehun in a hurry, panting.

“Professor, can I ask-”

And then Luhan is back.

 

He’s secretly glad Sehun manages to make his dream of being a teacher come true, but he doesn’t tell him about it. Some things are meant to happen without help.

 

One day, he realizes he’s never in the picture. He can never see himself, whenever he travels. It's like he doesn’t exist in any other time except right now. It’s scary; Sehun says he’s thinking too much into it, and distracts him by asking to be taught more potent punches whenever Luhan goes back to the past again.

Luhan throws a pillow at him.

 

One day, Luhan sees a thirteen years old Sehun kissing another boy. He’s torn between jealousy and something he can’t name.

He never asks Sehun about it.

 

His breaking point is going back to the past and finding a seventeen years old Sehun in the hospital. It’s the first time Luhan falls inside a building of any sort. He’s not sure if he should panic.

The beeping of machines get his attention to the bed behind him, so he gets up slowly and turns around, dreading who he might find on the bed. His fear is confirmed when he sees Sehun lying there, bruises covering him from head to toe. He wants to get close, but his feet are firmly planted on the floor.

The door of the room opens and a woman comes in, face sad and clearly deprived of sleep.

“Oh, are you one of Sehun’s friends?” She asks, a kind smile breaking through on her face.

“Ah... yes, I am.” Luhan answers, voice low in the white almost-silence of the room.

“I’m glad. Sehun doesn’t have many friends.” She explains, sitting down on a chair by the bed.

“Is he going to be alright?”

“Yes, though it will take a while. He took quite a beating. I still don’t know who taught him how to fight.” And here she looks at him, but her face is not suspicious. She seems genuinely curious, as if Luhan can reveal her son’s life to her.

Luhan feels cold sweat run down his spine, but before he can think of anything to say, _poof_.

 

After that, Luhan gets a little more attached to Sehun, but Sehun doesn’t question his motives. He probably suspects which part of his past Luhan saw the last time.

It takes him some time—and some more travels—to realize that his impact on Sehun’s life is greater than he could have ever imagining. Now he’s beginning to understand why he never traveled more than once or twice to the same person.

He’s kind of destructive, isn’t he?

 

“I’m a freak.” Luhan whispers, burying his head into Sehun’s shoulder. He feels Sehun tense under his arms, but his hold on Luhan’s shaking frame never stops.

“No, you’re not.” Is Sehun’s terse answer. Luhan can feel the anger pouring off of him, but he knows is not directed at him, which is a relief. He doesn’t know what he would do if Sehun decided to be angry with him. (Sehun can be quite scary.)

“Yes, I am. I have this freakish power that I can’t control, that throws my life around without my consent, that throws _me_ around without my consent, and ruins everything.” Luhan stops then, takes a deep breath and wonders how he’s going to get away once the truth is out.

He starts by disentangling from Sehun and distancing himself. Sehun frowns at the unexpected distance, but doesn’t say anything. This is always something Luhan has admired in Sehun, his capability to realize when silence is necessary. He takes another deep breath, and then another, for good measure.

“The only good thing my curse has ever brought me is you.” Luhan says in one go, a little bit too fast to be casual.

Sehun’s eyes widen, clearly surprised. Luhan doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. Probably bad, right? Because things can never go right when it comes to him.

It’s true, though. The only good thing it has ever brought him is Sehun. Luhan doesn’t feel like he deserves it. At all.

 

After the breakdown, Luhan makes a point to ignore Sehun. He doesn’t answer his phone or his emails. He manages to ignore Sehun for a whole week before the boy comes knocking on his door, threatening to tear it down if Luhan doesn’t open.

But Luhan can’t.

 

He sends Sehun away without ever opening the door.

 

After Sehun, Luhan stops traveling. He notices this four months in. He usually never goes more than a month without being thrown around like a ragdoll, but it’s been _four_ without a hit. He’s happy, actually; he’s not controlled by it anymore. He can now live his life without ever wondering what his random visits might be doing to random people, what bad things might be happening to good people just because Luhan managed to crash into their lives for a few minutes.

He lives assured that whatever Sehun’s doing, and whenever he is, he’s safe.

 

Five years later, Luhan is walking back from his work when he crashes into someone on a street corner. He looks up, ready to apologize, but it dies on his throat.

Sehun stares back at him, a look of equal shock on his face, before being replaced by something close to indifference.

It hurts like a bitch.

“Hey, long time no see.” Sehun says, a polite smile on his face. His words drain the blood from Luhan’s face, and of course Sehun notices this, he always notices everything about Luhan.

“You don’t look so good. Wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee?” Sehun nods his head in the direction of a nearby building, probably where he lives; Luhan finds himself nodding before he can think better of it.

 

Sehun isn’t a teacher, and that gives Luhan pause. He rests his cup on the low table in the center of the room.

“What do mean, a writer? I thought you wanted to be a teacher?”

Sehun shrugs. “I did, once upon a time. But things change, right?” And then he starts explaining how he managed to write the end of his last book while his flight was late, but Luhan isn’t listening anymore.

 

“What are you doing?” A soft voice asks, full of curiosity. Luhan looks to his right, away from the blue sky and into familiar brown eyes. He has never seen Sehun so young; he’s probably three or four, bare chested and swimming shorts and a cute rubber duck on one hand.

He almost answers the automated _I’m just enjoying the view_ , but pauses before opening his mouth.

 

_But things change, right?_

Sehun wasn’t a teacher. Sehun wasn’t dead. Somewhere in time, Luhan wasn’t dead either.

 

_But things change, right?_

Yes, he supposes they do.

 

“I was looking for you.” He answers little Sehun, an honest smile gracing his face as he watches those brown eyes lit up with childish wonder.


End file.
